Of Swords and Saviors
by Seeker of the Stars
Summary: When Matthew, adopted son of the aristocrat Francis Bonnefoy leaves his home in France, in hopes of finding his biological family, things don't go as planned. When the curtains drop and identities are revealed, he finds himself crusading as a pirate alongside his half brother Alfred. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Remember Matthew," the pianist repeated. "Don't get caught up into anything. Just find out, and come back straight away."

Matthew nodded at the words. He'd heard them so many times in the week, he could revise them. He was seventeen, yet he seemed to remain a child in the eyes of his elders. "I will Roderich, don't worry."

The Austrian huffed. "Yes, yes. I know you will. Now where's Francis? Your father should be here to see you off."

Francis, Matthew's aristocrat father – his Papa – was dealing with his duties as a landlord. Though he fretted over the seventeen year old whenever they'd meet, he never seemed to really be present in his life. Always working, otherwise drinking. Matthew did wish though that he came. This was the first time he could remember leaving the country of France.

Matthew shrugged at his teacher. "Landlord duties."

The musician grimaced. "Of course."

"The ship will set sail any moment now, I should get on board," Matthew said as he watched people board the large ship. He was nervous. Despite the amount of money his father had, Matthew never went on a ship. He never had reason to board that sort of transportation.

"I'm still unhappy of how you refuse to bring anyone with you," Roderich sighed. "And you're only taking one bag! What sort of mentality is that?"

Matthew laughed. "You worry too much. I am not a child, I can handle myself. I don't need a companion or more luggage."

"You're boarding a ship to Britain!" Roderich exclaimed. "Who knows when you'll be back from that disastrous country?"

Matthew sighed. Everyone at his father's manor had these thoughts about the country Matthew couldn't understand. Luckily, when they discovered that Matthew was adopted from the island country, they didn't show any sort of discrimination to him.

Though, many didn't approve the idea of him going back to the country to find his roots. His biological family. Especially Francis. Roderich told Matthew it was because he feared that his British parents would steal him away, though Matthew doubted that was the reason.

"I'll be back soon, Roderich," Matthew murmured, hoisting his bag onto his shoulders. "I'll write frequently too."

"This is silly, Matthew," the Austrian voiced his thoughts. "I know you want to find out about your biological parents, but-"

"This is something I have to do," Matthew said softly. "I'll use the orphanage address Papa gave me so I can inquire about my biological parents, and then-"

"Come home," Roderich grumbled, looked away. The blond nodded with a small smile.

"I _will_ be back soon."

"Look after yourself. Don't tell anyone you're from France, or who your father is. As in Francis. And don't attract attention."

Matthew began to walk away from his middle-aged companion. "Goodbye Roderich! I shall write to you soon!"

"Avoid pirates!" Roderich called out behind him as he walked up the wooden ramp, boarding the tall ship. "Avoid trouble!"

"Tell Ms. Elizaveta I'll be back for your wedding!" Matthew yelled, teasing the Austrian. Luckily, he processed it only when the ship was too far from the dock. All Matthew could see was a frustrated man waving his hands around, seeming to yell at the ship with a flustered expression.

* * *

The trip was of many weeks, but Matthew found himself enjoying it. Looking down at the water, talking to his shipmates, and the unique cuisine. The best thing was that he didn't get sea sick, unlike his new friend, Carlos, who claimed that he loved to travel by ship but hadn't in a long time. He also said he was going to England for business.

In only a short matter of time, Matthew found himself waving to his friend as they split ways on English ground. Everything was so different in England, from fashion to food. Luckily, he blended right in. His clothes didn't appear too French in the eyes of others thanks to Feliks, his wonderful fashion experienced friend.

Matthew's English was fluent, so he blended well in there too. He didn't mind the new variety of food, so as he settled down in a hotel, he found himself snacking on the new food. He found some revolting, but the other bits delicious.

Staring at himself in his mirror, he realized he looked like a British boy. Though he looked a lot like his adoptive French father, he somehow blended in here. His wavy hair ended at his shoulders, and violet eyes pierced his reflection. He held his hair up in a ponytail, stifling a laugh at how pirate-like he looked.

Hmm. Pirates. He heard about them, and he knew to avoid them. Like his Papa would say, they brought trouble. As long as he stayed away from the shore, he's be alright.

Luckily, the orphanage was surrounded by land, and only land. Water was nowhere to be spotted by miles.

* * *

As much as Matthew enjoyed traveling, he couldn't help but wish he didn't have to so much. He was restless after the weeks at sea, but now he was forced to travel on land too. Two elements down. Thank goodness it was impossible to travel through air and fire.

The orphanage was a small, wooden building. _Aria's Orphanage_ seemed to be closing down soon. Matthew frowned as he slowly pushed open the weak door. It creaked open.

The place was really falling apart. There was a small wooden desk right in front of the door, distanced by a few feet. A petite woman sat there, seeming to be reading some papers. She wore a blue dress, and her long, black haired pigtails cascaded down on her dress.

Matthew cleared his throat, and immediately caught her attention. She gave him a once over in his black long coat, then nodded, seemingly satisfied at his appearance.

"Err, hello. May I help you?"

"Uh yes," Matthew walked towards the desk. "Um, you see, I'm trying to trace back myself to my biological parents. I was adopted from here, and I was told you kept records of past adoptions, so I hope to use mine to trace back to my roots."

The woman tilted her head at him, studying him. Then she shrugged, pulled out a large book from nowhere, slamming into onto the table.

"I'd ask for verification of identity, but I don't do that anymore," the girl mused, opening the book. I'm Michelle, by the way. So, what's your name?'

"Um, Matthew Bon- Um, Williams. My real name is Matthew Williams."

"Williams, Williams," Michelle sighed, flipping through the pages of the book. "Okay, I think I found you."

Matthew swallowed, heart pounding. This was it. He was really going to find out about his parents. He was really-

"There's only an address here," she said with a frown. "Strange. Um, would you like me to give it to you?"

An address? Just an address? Why would _anyone_ leave an address at an orphanage where they dropped their child? Why not a name?

Maybe this would make this easier. Matthew sighed, nodding. "Yes, please."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she wrote the address down on a slip of paper. "This… this place is by the Far Shore…"

"Far Shore?"

"It's a hot spot for pirates and all sorts of hooligans. If you're going there, I suggest you not attract attention. These people… they're dangerous."

Matthew slowly nodded. The Far Shore meant Pirates.

His Papa and Roderich said avoid trouble, and a pirate hot spot _screamed_ trouble.

Was going there a good idea? Probably not. Was he going to go there anyway?

Obviously.

* * *

 **Hi!**

 **I'm finally back and writing again! I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter! It sorts of starts the story out, but trouble will soon ensue, worry not!**

 **Stay tuned for more, please! Chapters continue to get longer as the story progresses, and my goal is to update weekly. With school coming up (sadly), I may miss a day or two in between, but I'll do my best to update regularly!**

 **Please leave behind your thoughts! They mean a lot!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The Far Shore turned out to be pretty far. Matthew reached there when the sky was colored by a spectrum of colors, indicating afternoon had arrived. The town was busy, people fleeting around, not even glancing at him. That was good. That meant that his gift of being unnoticed was starting to kick in.

Matthew eventually found himself staring at another old, wooden building. This one was bigger than the orphanage. It was falling apart too, some wood decaying by the roof. There weren't any windows to peer into, but the front door awaited him. Faded numbers that matched his address told him that he was staring at the right house, but the house was clearly abandoned. He doubted anyone was there, but there was no harm in looking anyway.

The house was isolated from the rest of the community, and it was pretty close to the water. It made Matthew uncomfortable, but there wasn't anyone nearby, so at least he knew there weren't any pirates lurking around.

Matthew hesitantly knocked on the door, which wobbled with every knock. After a few moments of futile waiting, he knocked again on the one-story house, but again, there was no response. Eventually, he just pushed the door open. Other than how small the house was on its interior, and how the only thing there was in the house were a tables with papers distributed on them, the first thing Matthew noticed was a man.

Blonde, with striking blue eyes, the man was dressed in a long, blue jacket-like outfit, accompanied by white pants and a strange blue hat. What gave away his identity was the eye-patch and sword.

 _Pirate._

Startled and scared, Matthew started to slowly back away, wanting to avoid trouble, but the man was staring at him too, eyes narrowed. Then, something seemed to light up the stranger's eyes. The last thing the young noble remembered was the pirate advancing towards him.

And then, everything went black.

* * *

Sea. That was the first thing Matthew's conscious mind processed. He was at sea – he could tell by how he felt himself rocking from side to side, gently. He was on a ship once more.

But… he never boarded a ship. How could he have gotten onto a ship?

As light flooded his vision as he opened his eyes, memories of a Pirate at the address he was provided flooded back to him. He shuddered. The Pirate must have knocked him out.

He quickly took in his surroundings. He was definitely below deck, wooden boxes, crates and barrels indicating so. The large room seemed like a storage. A rather neat one, despite the dust on the boxes. Light peered in from circular windows by the back of the room, but it was still fairly dark.

Matthew noticed how he was tied up and how he was gagged. The rope was tight and rough, painfully rubbing against his hands and feet with the slightest movement. His gag was luckily just a cloth, but it too was tight and with his hands tied it wouldn't be easy to un-gag himself.

But it wouldn't be impossible either.

He almost snickered. These pirates didn't know who they were dealing with. Matthew may have been the son of an aristocrat, but that didn't mean he was one of those spoiled boys who enjoyed horse riding or going to balls. No, he was more the son of the servants in the household than his aristocrat father. He grew up playing in the dirt and getting into trouble more times than he could count. He was forced to eventually learn how to act more _proper,_ but that really didn't stop him from doing what he wanted to.

For once in his life, it was a good thing that his Papa didn't play that big of a role in his childhood. He was raised by several maids and butlers who couldn't suppress his curiosity or his long forgotten mischievousness. There was nothing he couldn't do from picking locks to sword fighting, though that was a _long_ time ago.

Still, he could get out of this.

As he cut his tied hands on a sharp piece of glass sticking out of a box, he grinned. With his free hands, he ungagged himself and untied his feet. That wasn't too hard.

After spotting a wooden staircase, Matthew found himself staring at it. With his luck, he was on a pirate ship. It'd only make sense.

He was _unarmed_ on a ship full of _pirates._

The thought sent his heart on a marathon. He swallowed, staring at the stairs. _Pirates._ He'd heard horrific tales about them, but… in real life?

All his newfound pride and confidence quickly evaporated as reality crashed down on him.

This was bad. Really bad.

Just because he wasn't a spoiled rich boy didn't mean he was cut out to deal with pirates. Ugh, why pirates? What did he do to make them come after him? There was no way they knew who he was, so what reason would they have to kidnap him?!

Matthew forced himself to calm down. Roderich had always told him that the best way to get through any sort of problem was to start by being calm.

First things first, he needed a weapon. This was a storage room, so that meant there had to be some weapons here, right?

After ransacking the storage space, or at least trying to – which was hard since most of the wooden boxes were sealed tight – Matthew finally found a sword with a decent balance. It cut through the air as he whipped it around. Good.

Now, to escape. He was equipped, but prepared? His fencing lessons were just fragments of the past now. He could barely remember them, but it didn't seem like he could really do much about it. Praying for the best, he pushed away those worries. If he couldn't do anything about it, there was no point worrying over it.

Matthew slowly went up the stairs, to a wooden door at the top. He bit his lip, and threw off his long coat down the stairs so he stood in a plain, white, mid-sleeved shirt and black pants, accompanied by boots.

Not a scary get-up, but one he could move in more easily if he were to be attacked. Plus, he wasn't too hot anymore.

His fingers ran through his hair, and hesitantly, he tied it up after grabbing some rope. Probably messy but…

He maybe, just maybe looked like a pirate. A loose white shirt, black pant, boots, tied up hair and a sword. He sighed. He actually probably looked like a rich kid, exactly what he was avoiding. Though, if Roderich saw him right now, he'd probably faint.

Matthew's hand rested on the thin, wooden door. Then, he pushed it open.

Light once again flooded his vision. After blinking, he observed he was on deck again. The deck was as wooden as any other, with different levels, a few steps between them. The wheel of the ship was far ahead of him.

Then, he noticed the people on deck.

No one had seen him yet. Matthew spotted the one who kidnapped him talking to another man by the wheel, whose clothing indicated that he was from Japan. The young noble's eye for fashion came in use as he spotted the difference in his outfit. A black coat with gold lining indicated perhaps that he was from the southern side of the country. The man was nodding, a sword loosely held in his hand. He had black hair, like his uniform, but Matthew couldn't make out any other features. He was really far from them.

Not far from them was a large man who wore a beige coat with a violet scarf. His outfit and appearance were un-pirate like, yet his grip on a long, pipe-like weapon said otherwise. The tall man was looking down the ship, to the rich blue water of the ocean, a distant expression on his face. Light blonde hair, and violet eyes like his own made Matthew pause. His coat looked like something that'd come from the east. Russian, perhaps.

A brunette was skipping around the edge of the ship, looking at the water too. He seemed to be humming a tune, and wore clothing similar to what Matthew wore, just looking a little worn out.

There were many other people on the deck below him too, but before he could observe them, he felt a cold, metallic object pressed against neck. With a swallow, he tightened his grip on his sword.

"What do we have here?" A man appeared in front of Matthew, black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, dressed in a black outfit – just like what the man who kidnapped him wore – a proper pirate outfit, just black. Light brown eyes glared down at him. The fashion part of his brain whispered _China,_ but he tried to burn out that section of his mind and focus on what was happening.

Before Matthew knew it, his own sword clashed against the man's, moving the sword away from his neck.

All was frozen for a moment as the ship quieted. The man looked startled as his sword flew through the air. Matthew's own sword was pointing at his neck now. Matthew felt a strange smile grace his features, but then the man dove for his own sword.

And then they were engaged into battle. The man attempted to stab Matthew near his chest, but again, their swords clashed. The man's sword narrowly missed him as Matthew managed to inflict a wound on his right arm.

The sword flew into the man's left hand, not daring to use his injured hand to fence. Matthew was now on the offensive, striking his sword at the man. Exhilaration filled him as their swords clashed against each other. It was… fun?

Matthew almost laughed. This was crazy, but as he jumped over the man's sword, he realized it was real. It was crazily real. This was really happening. He was dueling against this man, a pirate, on a pirate ship.

He noticed the others had gathered around them, but hadn't interfered. His opponent looked angry, but Matthew couldn't be bothered. His sword cut through the air, attacking the man, trying to work around his defenses.

Their swords danced through the air, and before Matthew knew it, the man was again, at the end of his sword.

"He got you, Yao," the other man in black said, a small smirk on his own face. Yao, the apparent name of his opponent, scowled at the other one.

"Shut up, Kiku," he grumbled. He didn't look at Matthew, but rather to the man who kidnapped Matthew. "Alfred?"

Alfred, Matthew's kidnapper, sighed. "It's true, Yao, Matthew got you."

With Yao's sword on the floor, Matthew found himself swiftly turning to Alfred, eyes blazing. "How do you know my name?"

Alfred held his hands in mock surrender, laughing. "Well, maybe because, you know, you're my _brother."_

Silence.

" _He's_ your brother?" the man in the beige coat ask with furrowed eyebrows. "I expected… something more, perhaps."

"You're _not_ my brother," Matthew hissed uncharacteristically once he processed the statement, angered by Alfred's blasphemous statement. "There is _no_ way I'm related to you."

Alfred laughed, eyes twinkling. "Okay, true, you're not my brother. You're my _half-brother."_

Matthew stared.

The pirate sighed. "Alright, I'll explain everything. Uh, can you guys give us some space?"

"Are you sure you want to be left alone with him?" Beige coat asked. Alfred nodded.

"He'd my brother, Ivan," Alfred whipped off his eye patch off, and his perfectly normal eye proved that the eye patch was just a fashion accessory. "And besides, you're forgetting _I'm_ the captain of this ship."

At that statement, everyone filed away to the lower deck.

Matthew's grip on his sword loosened as Alfred approached him, unarmed. "So, I'm going to tell you a story."

At this, Matthew blinked. "Pardon?"

"So, I grew up with an adoptive family too," Alfred began, ignoring Matthew's sudden confusion. "We lived in England, but towards the North. I was always alone, despite my family, since..."

Alfred trailed off, a distant look in his eyes. Then, he swallowed.

"I was always a curious kid. I began wondering about my biological parents, so after I found the address of the orphanage, I found the name Arthur Kirkland. Now, you may have not heard, but this, _"Arthur Kirkland_ " guy? He's one of the most powerful pirates to have set British sea. And from what I heard, one of the most corrupt.

"So that's why I'm here. I'm already a pirate, and when we're a _little_ more prepared, we attack Arthur. We take his ship, crew and everything else. A pirate's powerless without his ship and crew," Alfred paused. "This is where you come in. It said there was another boy, my _baby half-brother,_ named Matthew. I figured that hey, you may get curious too and come here, so I just left that address. Originally, there was going to be a letter telling you half of this, but you were lucky enough to run into me. I was looking for some stuff I left there so… yeah."

"Arthur Kirkland..." Matthew whispered, mind buzzing. Then he shook his head. "So… so we're really related..?"

Alfred nodded; then grinned. "I'm older than you. By a year."

Matthew was dumbfounded. "Uh… Prove it."

Alfred frowned. "Uh, we have the same nose. Similar hair. A lot of the same features, ask anyone."

Matthew looked at him suspiciously. They may have shared the same features, but a lot of people looked alike. And besides, if he were to ask anyone here, they'd agree because their captain would want them to.

"I was adopted at _Aria's Orphanage_ with you. I… wait! I have the papers! I stole them from the orphanage!"

"You carry them with you?" Matthew asked incredulously as Alfred pulled the papers out. "Why..?"

Alfred handed them to him with a triumph grin. After scanning the papers, he picked out key information.

His (biological) father's name was Arthur Kirkland.

His only (and half) sibling was named Alfred Freedom Jones, as in the pirate that stood before him.

And there was nothing else concerning him, but the official stamp on the papers indicated that the papers weren't made with the work of forgery, and everything was true. He was Alfred's younger half-brother.

And the son to apparently one of the most powerful, corrupt pirates to ever sail British waters.

"See?" Alfred sang. "We're related. And, uh, I kind of… took you because-"

"Kidnapped," Matthew corrected.

Alfred ignored him. "I took you, because I need your help."

"My help?" Matthew stared at his apparent older brother, analyzing him while conversing. "Why would you need me help?"

"I'm going to take down our Father!" Alfred exclaimed. "I'm going to take down Arthur Kirkland, The King of Pirates, and _you're_ going to help me!"

* * *

 **And so it begins.**

 **Ah, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who's so far followed or reviewed! It made my week, really! Thank you!**

 **Also, a lot of more characters are yet to appear. *suspense music* You've likely seen them before in the sort of AU, but that's all I can say for now~! Stay tuned to find out more~!** **:D**

 **This took forever to edit, and my head's still spinning with school, so apologies if there are any grammatical errors. I'll be sure to run through this later, but I hope you guys liked this!**

 **Feel free to leave behind what you think~! Thank you for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**This chappie's finally up! Hope you guys enjoy! :D**

 **Mini Recap: Alfred tries to recruit Mattie into taking down their father, the infamous pirate Arthur Kirkland.**

* * *

Chapter Three

"No," Matthew said plainly. "Just no."

This was crazy. The noble was starting to feel as though everything happening were apart of some sort of strange dream.

"Wh-What? Come on! Y-You have to!" Alfred began to panic, shaking his head frantically.

"I don't." Matthew sighed. "I… I should get home."

He honestly didn't know what to think. His mind wandered from why Arthur abandoned them to how he was actually related to pirates. Roderich and his Papa would have a heart attack if they found out. Elizaveta may be a little excited, likely to Roderich's dismay.

Of course, in the end, everyone back home in France were his real family, biological or not. They raised him, cared for him, and were there for him throughout his childhood.

"Home?" Alfred repeated aloud. "B-But… you can't go home! T-This is your home! Y-You're my brother! My _baby_ brother."

"Half-brother," Matthew said with a frown. This was truly crazy. The two of them were related..?

It wasn't that he couldn't handle a pirate life. He probably could. It would be hard, but he could do it. The question was, why? Why do all that for someone who you just met? And brother or not, he and Alfred were polar opposites. Matthew was better off at home, with his Papa. With the familiarity of everything he had ever known.

It just was a lot to take in at once. He was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his biological father was _Arthur Kirkland._ A _pirate._

"Y-You…" Alfred trailed off, worriedly. "You can't go..."

Matthew bit his lip at his expression, but his heart was set.

"I'm going home, Alfred."

* * *

Luckily Alfred didn't stop him but instead reluctantly and unhappily turned the ship around the drop Matthew back on British shore.

In the due time, the crew members of the ship, _The Freedom Fighter,_ introduced themselves to him. Matthew was less tense because he knew they wouldn't hurt him. He was the captain's half brother - so they wouldn't dare.

The crew was full of nice people. So far, he'd met quite a few people. There was Kiku – a Japanese pirate who worked as a navigator and duelist for the crew, and Yao, the swordsman he had defeated and who didn't seem to like him much. Other than those two, he'd become acquainted with the Russian named Ivan, who had loomed over him for a few moments before saying a greeting and leaving Matthew a little shaken, and Feliciano, the Italian cook and medical expert on introductions were a little overwhelming, but once over, it was nice to have met the new people.

Now, he turned to look at the ocean's waves. The blue of the ocean reminded him of Alfred's vibrant eyes. His half brother really did leave an impression on his mind. Alfred seemed like a decent guy, but it was just hard to wrap his mind around the fact that they were related. Alfred was a pirate – and Matthew a noble. It didn't make sense. It was… too _odd._

And on top of that, Alfred wanted him to give up his life to the mission of finding their father, _the_ Arthur Kirkland. The notorious pirate, famous for raids and murders all over the sea. He was known for many awful things, and to think that the pirate was his biological father… Perhaps he should have listened to Roderich and stayed home. The truth was too… undesired. Ignorance is bliss.

"Homesick?" Matthew turned to his right, where Alfred was standing beside him, leaning on the railing of the ship as he looked at ocean. "We'll be back on British land soon. A day, at most."

"I see," Matthew looked back to the ocean. The sound of waves crashing down on the ocean filled in the momentary silence. "Thank you."

"For what?" Alfred turned to look at him with a frown. "I kidnapped you. It's only right I take you back."

A smile graced the younger blonde's face. "Most kidnappers wouldn't return their victims back."

Alfred snorted. "You're my half brother, not my victim."

Silence filled the air, apart from the crashing waves. The sound was growing on Matthew; it was somewhat comforting. It made him wonder if he was perhaps born on a ship, since pirates travel over the ocean a lot.

"Why do you want to take down Arthur, Alfred?" A question he had been wondering for sometime. Personally, Matthew didn't want to have anything to do with his biological father – and the feeling was definitely mutual since he was dropped of at an orphanage as an infant, yet Alfred seemed to feel differently.

"Because of what he did to us," Alfred said, quietly. "Where I grew up, the fact that I was adopted was a big deal to everyone. Even my parents. I'm not really sure why they adopted me, because they didn't seem to really like me much."

"Oh." The younger blond quickly realized how lucky he was to be taken in by people who cared for him. Even if Francis wasn't a big part of his life, he was the man that had given Matthew a home. For that, he was forever indebted the Frenchman. "I'm sorry."

Alfred waved it off. "I'm over it. I left them when I was fifteen and became a pirate. It wasn't easy, I had to work for others for a _long_ time. Soon, I met the rest of the crew one by one, and I was finally able to get my own ship and recruit them onto my ship. We raid wealthy places, so they really enjoy being on board. They get all sorts of goods like this."

"Wealthy places?" Matthew questioned.

"I grew up in poverty, so I don't want to exactly… you know."

 _Oh._

The brothers were polar opposites in many different aspects, not just personality. Alfred grew up in poverty while he grew up in nobility. Alfred was the adventurous and ambitious type, whereas he was the type who preferred to stay home and read rather than do something too… extravagant. He did enjoy small doses of adventure, but not something like _this._

Things were piecing together now. He was starting to see why Alfred wanted to take down Arthur – Arthur was the cause of his pain and distressful childhood.

"I know you grew up somewhere nice, Matthew," Alfred said. "But I thought you might be a little angry too… I mean, he did just abandon us so he could do whatever the hell he wants to. He should have stepped up – he's our father!"

Alfred ended the sentence in an exasperated tone.

His eyes now ignited with a new sort of light as he spoke. "What sort of father abandons their children like that?! And now, he roams the seas killing and hurting hundreds! What sort of man is he?!"

Matthew swallowed, taking a small step back at his enraged half brother. "Alfred…"

"Arthur Kirkland is a horrible person, and _I_ will be his bane," the older blonde's eyes were burning. "I'll make him regret _everything."_

 _Bloodlust._

That was what was written all over Alfred's face right now. He was broken, angry, and hurt. It was all the British pirate's fault.

Matthew also had to admit, everything Alfred said was sickening – but true. That was what pirates did - kill, take and use, never in a set order. Arthur Kirkland was just good at it, and it was horrible. People trembled at his name, he was feared in many countries.

Aside from that, Matthew agreed with everything Alfred said about his role as a father. He didn't step up to it, and though Matthew was happy where his adoptive father had brought him, it had always pained him that he had been abandoned by his real parents. Things were okay the way they were now, but then again, things weren't right. And they should be set right. They _had_ to be set right. That's how things worked, didn't they?

Alfred has a point. Arthur Kirkland _had_ to be stopped. He was doing harm to many, and above that, he had _abandone_ d them. That stung. Matthew didn't want to acknowledge the feeling, but in the end, there was nothing he could do to rid himself of it.

 _Or, was there?_

The young noble's mind was racing now.

"I'll help you," Matthew's voice came out hesitantly, but firm. "I'll help you take him down."

* * *

Matthew had agreed to kill their biological father with his step brother.

If Roderich knew, he'd be proud.

Proud in the sense where Matthew would be locked in his room, never to see daylight again.

After Alfred had calmed down, he went of to inform his crew members of the change of plans. His excitement had attracted already many eyes, so it was likely already known to most of the crew members that Matthew had decided to stay onboard.

"You've agreed?" Kiku guessed as he approached the blond. His sword was firmed tucked away under his coat, yet it being so near him put Matthew on guard.

"Yeah." The blond eyed the coat. "I look forward to working with all of you."

"As do we, Matthew-san," the Japanese replied, turning to the ocean. "Have you ever been in this line of work before?"

"Please, call me Matthew," the new Pirate said. "And no, this will be a new experience for me."

Kiku's lips turned upward. He looked amused. "I hope you're not easily weakened by the sight of blood, _Matthew._ You won't last long here if you are. _"_

* * *

 **And that concludes chappie #3!**

 **I apologize if this is somewhat rushed. I was sick over the past week, so writing was a bit hard. I do hope everyone enjoyed it, though! It gets better real quickly! And I'll have the next chappie up really soon, quite a few people are about to make an appearance~! It'll certainly be longer (as this was somewhat short).**

 **Also, thank you so, so much for all the support so far! It really, really, really means a lot, so thank you! :D**

 **Please feel free leave behind what you think! Thank you for reading~!**


	4. Chapter 4

**And here arrives the next chappie!**

 **This is somewhat of a filler chappie, but the end... well, let's say things don't go as planned for Mattie.**

 **I hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Four

As nice as the crew was, they creeped Matthew out quite a bit.

But it was a nice change from the familiar faces at home. Usually, he didn't like to be outside of his comfort zone – outside of what he was familiar with – yet here, he didn't seem to mind.

"You look wonderful, _Matteo,"_ Feliciano beamed. They were standing in Alfred's room. "Red is really your colour."

"Agreed," Alfred murmured, adjusting his half-brother's coat. "You look like a real pirate now! You're just missing an eyepatch!"

The noble let out a nervous laugh. "I'll pass."

"Are you sure? You'd rock one – and you'll be able to see in the dark too!" *****

"Really?" Matthew asked, absentmindedly as he examined himself in the mirror. Alfred and Feliciano had outdone themselves. He no longer looked like the son of Francis Bonnefoy – he looked like the son of Arthur Kirkland. Dressed in a red coat that ended by his knees, accompanied by a white blouse beneath and dark pants, with boots that allowed him to move around easily – he looked like a pirate.

"Yeah! The eyepatch helps my covered eye see at night," Alfred continued to ramble in the background. "So, it looks good, and it's useful too!"

"You look wonderful, really _Matteo_ ," Feli appeared beside him in the mirror, a smile beaming as bright as the white shirt the Italian was wearing. "You'll be our other captain, right?"

"Another captain?" Matthew echoed in bewilderment.

"Of course!" Alfred appeared beside him in the mirror, throwing his arm around the other blond. "He's my brother, after all!"

Matthew stumbled back from the mirror, rapidly shaking his head. "I can't be a captain! Besides, you're the captain!"

"So?" Alfred flashed him a grin. "This isn't your ordinary ship, _dear brother."_

Alfred was purposely pushing the "brother" button – over and over again. It was overwhelming, and somewhat discomforting. Processing the fact that they were related took some time, and though he now accepted the fact, he'd rather it wasn't mentioned so casually and often as it was being used.

Matthew noted to address Alfred about that later. There were more pressing matters to worry about.

"I refuse," the young blond shook his head. "I can't be a captain, Alfred. I'm just a boy –"

"You're of _noble blood,_ " Alfred smiled, whereas Feli let out a gasp. "You can do it; you've had people under your control before."

"I'm not actually of noble blood," Matthew pointed out. "I'm adopted. So, you can't say –"

"I should step out now," Feli cut in, beaming at the blonds. "I'll check in with you two when dinner's ready."

As the Italian fled, Matthew deflated. Now that they were alone, Alfred would only grow _more_ persistent.

"Well," Alfred began, taking over the silence as he shut the door of his room. "Now that we've got your outfit down, we should find you a sword, _captain."_

"I _refuse,"_ Matthew shook his head. "You can't make me."

* * *

Oh, how _terribly wrong_ he was about that.

After finding a good sword, he was sent back out to the deck of the ship, and no matter how many times he'd correct them, everyone addressed him as captain.

"Hello Captain," someone had said.

"It's Matthew," he had corrected. They smiled and shook their head, continuing on their way again.

This occurrence repeated itself multiple times. The battle was lost before it had even begun. Alfred always had his way – Matthew had begun to realize.

"It's _annoying,"_ the blond was grumbling under his breath as Kiku sighed. This rant didn't seem like it'd end soon if it continued like this. "Alfred can't just do that!"

"He can, Matthew-san," Kiku pointed out. "But I think it's best you focus at the task at hand for now."

"It's Matthew," the boy corrected, before following Kiku to the front of the ship, where crew members were busy bustling about, different errands to run. "So, what is the task at hand?"

"To find the Kirkland ship," Kiku replied, eyes focused on the sea. Matthew frowned.

"How do we accomplish _that_?"

"It's simple," the Japanese navigator. "I tracked out his previous destinations, and I've anticipated the future ones. We just must continue to travel North, and we'll run into the ship soon."

"And then what?" the blond questioned.

Kiku's eyes darkened. "We attack."

"But, _how?"_

"Alfred-san and Ivan-san has prepared a battle plan. We'll follow through with it, and accomplish the task."

That was pretty vague. It didn't seem like the crew-members on this ship were well informed of important plans. Collaboration was necessary for a mission like this, and that had to be enforced.

Gah, Alfred was rubbing off on him.

"Kiku," Matthew turned to the navigator. "I want you to call for a meeting within the next hour, at whatever meeting room this ship has. We need to discuss the plan in further detail, together, as a crew."

* * *

"You're _serious?"_ Matthew incredulously said. "You actually want to go through with this?"

Kiku had wisely only informed those involved in planning the attack on the Kirkland ship, which meant that it was only him, Alfred, Ivan and Yao. Feliciano enjoyed to sit by and listen though, putting in his input now and then. He had arrived with some snacks too, but they sat forgotten at the end of the table.

Alfred was a horrible planner, him being the one who had suggested they fling themselves at the Kirkland ship and attack. He literally was planning to slingshot one man at a time at the enemy ship.

His half-brother was full of surprises. This surprise, however, had to be discarded.

Ivan, on the other hand, was a little too good at planning. He had carefully planned a massacre on the enemy ship. They'd first shoot canons at the enemy ship, then board it and throw the enemies in Alfred's ship's dungeon. That would enable them to torture their enemies without difficulty.

So, the Russian man was also full of surprises. Rather unpleasant ones, at that.

It was agreed by everyone other than the planners that a new plan needed to be made – much to Matthew's delight.

"We could take over the ship with the help of our canons," Yao mused. "And if we threaten them well enough with the canons, we'll gain in easy access."

"But can't they do the same with us, then?" Matthew said, frowning. "Our ship is as vulnerable as theirs."

Yao scoffed. "Do you have any better ideas, _captain?"_

Well, no. He didn't. It was easy to point out the flaws of a plan than to make one. The blond's frown grew.

"I believe my plan is the best way to go about this, captain _Matvey_ ," Ivan smiled at him from across the table, sending shivers down the co-captain's spine. "Don't you agree?"

Alfred came to the rescue, him being one of the few not intimidated by the Russian. He wasn't even the slightest bit fazed as he said, "We need a decent plan that meets everyone's approval, and your way doesn't."

Matthew swallowed at the aura Ivan began to radiate. Everyone but Yao and Alfred inched away from him as he let out a low string of _"kol's"._

Kiku broke the silence as he reminded everyone that they would be on land within the next hour to pick up some supplies before pursuing the ship – a recently made decision by Alfred since they were running low on weapons. The next hour proved to be fruitless. None of them seemed to be good at planning – and those who may have been didn't speak much. It was, in other words, pointless. Those who had ideas wouldn't share them, in fear of their plan being flawed, and those with flawed plans wouldn't hesitate to tell everyone about them.

If only Roderich were here.

Matthew knew that in his day, before he had retired as a musician, he would work on the streets of France, pick-pocketing, scheming and whatnot. Elizaveta had told him all about it, from the Austrian trying to pickpocket her, and to his personality flip. Maybe, if he were on board, he could help them come up with something. Of course, it was more likely that if he were on board, Matthew would be in a lot of trouble. Knowing Roderich, he'd somehow find a way to pull the noble off the ship, over the water, and back home to France were Matthew's punishment was inevitable.

Shudder.

Perhaps dealing with pirates would be easier now than dealing with his caretaker.

When they finally reached shore, a place near Spain, some of the crew members were wary about going on land, and when Matthew inquired about this, the question was brushed off. In the end, he decided to stay on board with some of the other crew members, much to Alfred's dismay.

"You have to come, Matt!"

"It's Matthew," the younger blond corrected, watching as crew members flooded the dock. Their ship's anchor had been dropped, and they were now bound to land. The decks here were small, and beyond them there were fields of endless greenery. An odd place indeed to construct a dock, but then again, this was, from what he collected, one of the best places in the area to dock a ship. The crew members who had left the ship first had already began to file down a dirt path that led to a local town, led by Yao and Kiku. He watched them walk out of his line of vision.

"Fine, but I'm still calling you Matt," Alfred stated, to which the noble didn't comment. "And you _have_ to join us to drink tonight!"

"Drinking?!" Matthew spluttered, quickly turning to his half-brother with wide eyes. "I'm only seventeen, Alfred! And you're not much older than me either!"

The idea of drinking before he was twenty was… _atrocious._ Growing up, he was taught strictly by his caretakers that he should wait until he was old enough to think wisely about thinking anything alcoholic, and so, all sorts of alcoholic beverages were forbidden to him until he reached twenty.

But Alfred was confused. "So?"

"I'm too young! And so are you!"

"I am?"

"Yes!" Matthew exclaimed.

"Oh. Well, too bad! We're pirates – rebels! We're going drinking tonight, Matt!" Alfred grinned. "And besides, what sort of pirate doesn't drink?"

* * *

The townspeople weren't afraid of them, only wary. Alfred had said that this was because they had their fair share of pirates come to their town each year. A group of people, some ruffians, coming in and demanding food and bedding from them wasn't out of the ordinary. This was normal for them. This crew, however, would be paying for everything they took, under Alfred's orders.

"You don't look well," Feli commented before chugging down another cup. Matthew watched him, awestruck while his head buzzed.

This was painful. He was a lightweight, and holding his alcohol was starting to seem impossible.

"I _am_ well," Matthew nearly giggled. Oh, this was bad.

The bar was fairly crowded, mainly by crewmates. People were drinking everywhere, dispersed at round wooden tables. Laughter echoed throughout the large bar, and in Matthew's ears.

Where was Alfred?

Right. He had disappeared saying he wanted to talk to someone. A girl, right? Or was it just a guy with really long hair?

Who knows?

"Well, I'm off," Feli smiled as he caught someone's eye. Again, Matthew's spinning head couldn't tell if it was a man or woman with which the Italian had disappeared with. He pulled himself off the bar stool, staggering slightly as he approached the exit.

The warm, fresh air sobered him up a bit. It was suffocating inside, with so many people and the stench of beer flooding the room. Outside, he could gaze out at the small, dark shops in front of the bar. They were all empty, which made sense since it was so late. Aside from the loud chatter from inside the bar, it was fairly quiet, thankfully. His head couldn't handle all that noise. Alcohol seemed to make him feel worse rather than better.

He gazed up at the stars, which almost looked like they were dancing.

No, not sober yet. Unless stars danced, that is.

He was shoved out of the way a few times as people exited and entered the busy bar. Beside those odd few, Matthew was the only one outside.

Or so it seemed, at least.

After deciding that being shoved by people and hit by the door wasn't fun, the blond decided to move to the back of the building, where he could instead gaze at the endless patch of greenery. The little town was surrounded by grassland on all sides.

As he was about to turn the final corner to the back wall of the bar, he heard hushed voices. With staggering footsteps, he peered at the people talking by the back wall.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw them. He felt all affects of the alcohol in his system die out.

This couldn't be happening. Of all times Matthew could see him, now was the worst.

Barely a few feet from Matthew, stood his adoptive father, Francis Bonnefoy.

* * *

 **And cut!**

 **I apologize if this is somewhat rushed! I do my best, though my editing is a little funky, at times. Still, I hope you guys enjoyed!**

 **Also, I just wanted to say, thank you for the support, everyone! It means so much to me to have your support, so thank you! :D**

 **Please stay tuned for more, and feel free to leave your thoughts behind!**

* * *

 ***Eyepatches were worn by pirates in most cases to condition the covered eye to allow them to see in the dark.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Francis wore a long blue coat, and dark pants. In the dark of the night, that was all he could see. He did, however, notice other people.

Elizaveta was beside Francis, glaring at what seemed like a local of the area. She wore her signature green dress, except it was shortened, ending by her knees. High boots covered the area below the dress. Her hair, the young noble noticed, was tied up too, rather than open as it usual was.

The local was nearly crying. It was a short man, barely any hair on his scalp. His clothes were nearly as fine as Francis and Elizaveta's.

Francis seemed furious. Matthew hadn't seen him mad often, but whenever the Frenchman ran out of patience, hell would break loose.

Except this time, it was just yelling. It started out quietly, but slowly, his voice rose.

"…Tolerate it! This is unbelievable!" Francis was yelling. Elizaveta grabbed his elbow when had stopped, whispering into his ear, probably to lower his voice. He frowned, but nodded, and the rest of the exchange was carried out in hushed whispers.

Matthew frowned. It was odd that his Papa and Elizaveta were here, near Spain, and not in France. From what he knew, his Papa only stayed in France to deal with his duties, yet here he was, in a different country, seemingly harassing a local from the area.

There had to be a good reason for all this.

Matthew wasn't as sober as he felt, however, and as he leaned a little closer to the chattering pair in hopes to hear what they were saying, he slipped, just barely breaking the fall with his arms.

The whispers stopped. They could see him, he realized. They could see a blond boy with hair tied up, in a plain, white shirt and dark pants. That wouldn't disguise him from them. He didn't look up, continuing to stare at the grass beneath him. He was frozen in fear, his mind not functioning enough to tell him what to do to get out of this situation – to make sure Francis and Elizaveta wouldn't recognize him.

Boot crunched on the dirt beside him, and when he angled his head slightly to the right, he recognized them as Elizaveta's shoes.

 _Oh no._

Although it should have been good that she approached him rather than his Papa, he knew Elizaveta was a firm woman. She almost always got her way, and she could be pretty scary when she didn't – or just scary in general. It depended on the mood she'd be caught in, of course. The only person she'd melt for was Roderich, who was probably sitting at home and wondering where he was.

Did Roderich send out a letter to his Papa and Elizaveta about his extended absence? Did they already know, was it too late?

Was there a point in denying anything at this point?

Confronting them would result in Matthew being shipped home, pirate or not. Francis may not be able to pull off such a task, but Elizaveta could take on dozens of pirate ships if it came down to it – Matthew was sure. Not only would that be embarrassing, but that'd also stop him from the quest he and Alfred had embarked on.

Finding Arthur Kirkland, and to put it simply, ending him.

"Speak," the Hungarian's voice hissed, and Matthew recognized her dagger immediately. Up until now, he'd only seen her carry it around, even occasionally use it to cook, but seeing it so close, pressed against his neck, was unsettling. Especially considering this was the woman who had played one of the biggest roles in raising him. She was almost like a mother to him. "Who're you?"

Matthew opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. What was he even supposed to say?

"I said," Elizaveta crouched down beside him, blazing green eyes reflecting off the silver dagger by his throat. " _Who_ are you?"

One slight movement, and the dagger would cut through his neck. Matthew tried not to shudder.

Those clouds couldn't hide the moon forever, and once they'd move, the moonlight would allow them to see him, and despite the get-up he was in, there was no doubt they'd recognize him. He had to get out of this situation before Elizaveta sliced his throat off, or the moonlight sealed his housebound fate.

"He's one of mine," a voice came from behind them. Male, for sure, but he couldn't recognize it. It was familiar, but the alcohol was still working on his mind.

Elizaveta stood up, dagger disappearing, and Matthew nearly gave in to the pain in his arms for holding him up so long and collapsed to the ground. However, Alfred would murder him if he got the shirt dirty, and at this time, Alfred's fury dulled away all the other alternatives of the situation. He remained in that position, with his arms keeping him up from the ground.

"Yours?" Elizaveta snorted. "Gilbert, what're you even doing here?"

 _Gilbert._

The name rung a bell, but how? Where?

Who was this "Gilbert" guy?

"I owed Toni some favours," the German accented voice sighed. "Just finishing them. What about you?"

"It's none of your concern," Elizaveta growled. "Take your man, and leave!"

"Yeah, yeah," Gilbert mumbled. "Come on kid, let's go."

Footsteps sounded behind him, and he felt himself being pulled up. All he saw was a flash of red – were those red eyes? – and then he was pushed towards the side of the building, where he crashed against the wooden wall of the tavern. Right around the corner stood an albino – Gilbert – and from the corner he could see a bit of Elizaveta too. Francis and the local were out of sight.

"He's drunk," the albino shrugged at the defensive Hungarian. "Oh, hey Franny! It's been some time!"

 _Who's Franny?_

But that question was forgotten as his legs gave out. He fell to the dirt with a soft thud. Matthew let out a small groan. Now Alfred's shirt was dirty. Great.

"It has, Gilbert," Francis' replied, softly. "You've changed."

"For the best, right?" Gilbert laughed, but there was something was off about it. "It's been a good past few years."

Matthew's head was getting a little shaky again. Another soft groan escaped his lips.

"Has it?" Francis' voice was full of pity. "And, I'm afraid the change was for the worst, Gilbert."

The world went black.

* * *

"Nice view, right?"

Matthew let out a yelp, almost jumping at the voice. He turned, only to meet red eyes once more.

About half an hour ago, he had woken up in what seemed to be a hotel room. The room wasn't too big, and the giant, wooden bed he was earlier on took up most of it's space, but it compensated with the high quality of everything. The sheets were silky like something Matthew had never touched before, and the mattress was softer than anything he could think of. Those thoughts of course, were forgotten as he realized he was in a random hotel room, covered in quite a bit of mud from the night before. Once he stood up and approached the window to see where he was, the owner of the room had walked in.

Gilbert Beilschmidt was Elizaveta's childhood friend – once upon a time. Matthew had mostly just heard of him from Roderich and his Papa, and once, he had caught a glimpse of the albino at a ball, but otherwise, Elizaveta and other members of the household made sure that Matthew would never be near the albino.

For what reasons, he didn't know.

"Hello?" the German waved a hand in front of Matthew's face. "You there, kid? Matthew, right?"

"Huh?" Matthew said. With a dazed expression, he reached out to pet Gilbert's fluffy, white hair. It was so odd considering he seemed nearly as young as Matthew – though that couldn't be true. He was likely somewhere around twenty-nine, if he was Elizaveta's childhood friend.

Gilbert didn't stop him from petting his hair, but instead just stared. Finally, he spoke. "You can't _still_ be drunk. Huh. This is probably one of the weirdest hangovers I've ever seen."

Catching himself, Matthew pulled away his hand, face burning.

 _Did I really just do that?_

Maybe he was still drunk. He didn't exactly feel hungover – just a bit dazed. His head did buzz a bit though, but it wasn't too bad.

"S-Sorry!" the noble squeaked. "I-I didn't mean to –"

"It's okay kid, chill," Gilbert laughed. "I get that reaction from a ton of people. I'm used to it. Of course, not all of them are as daring as you."

Matthew's face burned brighter.

"But, it's okay. You're Matthew, right? Franny – Francis' kid, right?" the German asked. "You may be adopted, but you look a lot like him."

"Yeah, I'm Matthew." His cheeks were still warm. "Wait. How do you know –?"

"I talk to Franny – Francis," Gilbert caught himself quickly. "A lot. Letters, most of the time. But yeah, he's told me about you."

"He has?" Matthew was surprised.

"Yeah," Gilbert squinted. "You've grown up a lot."

"How –?"

"So, what're you doing here?" the German inquired. "I mean, the awesome me saved your butt last night from Francis and Pan girl, but it wasn't for nothing."

"Pan girl?" Matthew quickly connected that to Elizaveta. "For nothing?"

"Well, I want to know why you're sneaking around Francis and all," Gilbert grinned. "I'm always a listener for juicy gossip."

There was no denying that Gilbert knew he was hiding from his Papa and Elizaveta last night – but still, did he really want to tell him anything?

"Fine," Gilbert frowned at his silence. "Tell me later. Next time we meet. But you also owe me a favour – I'll collect that from you some day, don't forget!"

"R-Right," Matthew nodded. Then, he bit his lip. "Er, where are we, Gilbert?"

"My hotel room," the albino replied. "I let you crash here last night, but now it's morning and I need you to scram. I can't pay to stay longer here. I have to go and find a buddy of mine – before he finds me."

"O-Of course," the young noble quickly nodded. "I-I'll get going now –"

A knock on the door cut him off, and Gilbert let out a curse before he shoved Matthew on the ground, behind the bed. He fell with a thud, trying not to yell out in pain due to the injury on his elbow Gilbert inflicted. Gilbert's eyes were apologetic, but they disappeared along with him as he rushed to open the door.

"W-Wait," the German was suddenly stuttering. "You're not supposed to –"

"Captain Carriedo wants to see you right now, Gilbert," a male voice said. "And also, the female in this room with you is to come as well."

* * *

 **Ta-da!**

 **Sorry for the late update! It's been a busy week, which is why I could only update now. I hope you guys like it! I'll have more up soon!**

 **Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Feel free to leave behind your thoughts~!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The room was silent for a moment.

"A g-girl?" Gilbert busted into laughter. "O-Oh my, you think I have a girl in this room?"

"Someone reported you took in a girl to your room last night, Beilschmidt. Don't act silly with me."

Matthew's face began to burn. They thought _he_ was a _girl?!_

 _"_ L-Like I'd have a girl in my room, Sebastian," Gilbert was gasping for air between laughter. "You're a funny one, you know that?"

A growl emitted from the stranger – Sebastian. A thud sounded in the room as Gilbert stopped laughing. Through the translucent sheets hanging off the bed, Matthew spotted Gilbert on the floor. Sebastian must've pushed him - or hit him.

He wanted to get up and deal with Sebastian on his own, but Gilbert must've kept him out of sight for a reason, and perhaps it was best he wouldn't be spotted. Besides, he didn't want to get involve with this _Carriedo_ character either.

"Don't play games with me, freak," Sebastian spat out. Matthew spotted a blob of brunet hair march towards the bed. "Where is she?"

"There is no girl," Gilbert said, voice more somber. "I was talking to one last night, but she never came with me to the room."

"You better not be lying, you –"

"I'm not," the German cut him off. "But if you're so worried, then check the room. Of course, I'm sure Antonio won't like waiting for us because of your paranoia, will he?"

Matthew couldn't help but admire Gilbert in the moment. He was so confident – something Matthew always wanted, but couldn't be – and he knew what to do in any situation without putting much effort into it. Even know, he was keeping the young noble hidden by riling up and insulting the stranger.

But there were other things to worry about – like whether or not Sebastian would take the bait.

There was some shuffling. Gilbert was up again.

The fluff of white hair visible by the bed walked towards the entrance.

"Well?"

"Fine," Sebastian finally hissed. "Let's go. But you better not by lying, freak."

"I'd _never."_ Within seconds, both men left the room, leaving Matthew hidden by the bed.

 _I'll count to ten, and then get up._

The blond began to silently count, but at eight, there was a loud _thud_ from outside the room, and seconds later, Gilbert came rushing back into the room, looking frantic – but a bit happy too.

"Let's go!" he yelled, grabbing a hold of Matthew's wrist and yanking him off the floor. The albino dragged the noble out of the room, and over a motionless Sebastian lying on the staircase.

"Gilbert!" the blond screamed. "Let go of me!"

* * *

Alfred would definitely notice his absence, but at this point, Matthew was more concerned as to where he was.

"Why did you drag me here?" he questioned the albino, frowning. "I thought we were going our own ways."

At this, Gilbert frowned. "After I saved your butt, this is how you treat me?"

The blond didn't respond to this as he observed the store they stood in front. It was small, unconnected to the others nearby. It was made of stone, and ivy crept up near the bottom of the structure. The wooden roof was nearly cloaked in ivy though, indicating that it had made it's way to the top from behind.

"You're going to steal from this store for me," Gilbert finally explained, stepping in front of Matthew, blocking the store from sight. "And then I'll let you go."

 _"What?!"_

"I said, you're going to steal from the store," the albino slowly repeated. "After that, I'll let –"

"I heard you," Matthew cut him off, frustrated. "But no. I'm not stealing from some guy's store just because you told me to."

"Then you'll be stuck with me," Gilbert replied, red eyes looking into his own. " _Forever."_

A shiver ran through the noble's body. Whatever Gilbert was involved in, he didn't want to be apart of it, and after this morning, he was determined to find Alfred and get back on track with their mission as soon as possible.

"Just let me go," Matthew futilely tried to free his wrist from Gilbert's hold. "I don't want to –"

"You do owe me," the red eyed man pointed out. "I'm just collecting my favor earlier than planned. I wouldn't have to if that guy hadn't..."

Gilbert shook his head, sighing. The blond bit his lip at this, giving the store a once over again. It seemed to be empty, so it wouldn't be a problem doing the job. "Why can't you do it yourself?"

"My appearance will give me away if I'm seen in that store. The locals know me here, and besides, if my… superiors find out I didn't do this earlier, I'll be in trouble."

"But –"

"Hurry, we don't have much time," Gilbert let go of him and pushed him towards the shop. "The door should be open – picked it last night. Just didn't get to it."

Matthew stumbled towards the store, swallowing. He quickly threw glance back at the albino behind him.

"I hate you, Gilbert."

And then he went in.

* * *

"How long until we hit shore, Alistair?"

The red head looked up from the map with a scowl. He glared at the blond captain. "I don't know."

A menacing grin. "Do I have to kill you off too or –"

"It's fine," Alistair quickly looked back down at the map. "Just try not to kill off the rest of the crew."

A cold smile played on the blonde's lips. "No promises."

With that, the blond left the Scottish man alone at the end of the ship as he walked towards the front. It was a sunny day, much to his distaste. Too bright. He was tempted to spend his day in his room, undisturbed in darkness, but his crew was useless without him keeping them in line. Last time he left them alone, their navigator was stirring up trouble, and so, Arthur had no choice but to finish him off. Perhaps he should have waited until they hit shore though, because Alistair was a horrible substitute.

But aside from that, things weren't too bad. The crew wasn't rebelling – which was somewhat of a relief. When they rebelled, they weren't too hard to deal with, all he had to do was kill some of them here and there, but still. It was nice to have them obedient for sometime.

There used to be a time when they would listen to him without question, but now, someone on board seemed to be poisoning the minds of his crew, and there was some sort of attempt to throw him off every other month.

Dylan was already working at finding the root of the problem – the person in charge of the blasphemous thoughts the crew was thinking, but his brothers were useless in about everything but fighting and charming. Honestly, they were bloody useless.

At their next stop, he'd deal with his crew members for good. Teach them a good lesson. He had had it with their foolish acts.

"Captain," Dylan appeared beside him, trying to keep up pace with his younger brother as they approached the front of the ship, where a small patch of land was starting to become visible. "We should reach our destination within an hour or so."

"I can see that, Dylan," the blond replied, dryly. "My eyepatch doesn't make me blind."

Dylan's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, nearly matching his hair. "Right."

He was the only one out of his brothers who didn't fear him. It was odd – but he didn't really care. He did enjoy seeing fear in everyone's eyes when he near, but with Dylan, he never saw fear.

Strange. Yet intriguing.

"Captain," Dylan found his voice again. "I was just wondering, why are we going to Spain?"

"It's not officially Spanish territory," the blond said. "And we need to pick up some ammunition. Aside from that, I have a few ideas for the village over there."

Dylan looked around them, and seeing that they were alone, with no one nearby, he lowered his voice and spoke.

"I don't understand, Arthur. We have no business in –"

"I've caught word of Carriedo being there," the Brit cut him off, eyes blazing. "We have some things to settle. And aside from that, don't you think it's time we robbed and burned a little land?"

* * *

 **Ta-da!**

 **I've a lot of work to do lately, so it's been hard finding time to write. Still, I've done my best (a little rushed, but I'm working on it) and I hope you guys like it!**

 **Also, it's Thanksgiving here, but I'm aware that the date varies per place. So** **Happy (maybe early) Thanksgiving!**

 ** _Additionally_ , thank you so much for all the support! I'll do my best to keep pushing! Next chapter is coming up soon!**

 **Hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Gilbert had told him that he was looking for a glass bottle with a note inside. Acquiring this object was easy – as it stood out in the small fabric shop, sitting on the edge of the counter table. The only problem now, was getting out.

The door locked itself. Matthew had seen these types of doors back in France – they needed a special key to be opened from the inside. They could be disabled if a special sort of locksmith came by and did the job, but the noble knew nothing else about it. So, now, here he was, trapped inside a fabric store, light barely peering through the windows by the roof, with a item he was planning to steal for a suspicious guy named Gilbert.

Honestly, defeating Arthur Kirkland seemed a lot less stressful. He was hoping for a clear path – not obstacles or distractions. Yet, here he was, dealing with theft rather than his mission.

The noble heaved a sigh, shaking the knob once more. It was useless. He was locked in. Where was Gilbert?

Had he abandoned him already?

Matthew held back a snort. If Gilbert had, then he'd hit him.

"Okay," Matthew finally said after trying the knob (and inspecting the door so see if it could be opened in another sort of manner). "I'll do what Roderich does when he's mad."

The Austrian man would often break things when enraged.

The blond backed away from the door, hugging the bottle so that it was near his chest. Then, with a yell, he ran towards the door, shoulder facing it in hopes to knock it down.

Just as he was about to run into it, the door swung open outwards, and there stood a young, brunet man with large, wide brown eyes full of panic as Matthew charged towards him, unable to stop himself in time.

" _Medra!"_ the man nearly yelped as he went down, Matthew falling onto him. The noble ended up on top of the Italian man, who's eyes fell closed as they crashed to the ground.

Matthew himself had to resist cursing as he scrambled off the man, ignoring the pain growing in his shoulder. The guy must have passed out – because he sure as hell wasn't awake anymore. Instinctively, Matthew checked the unconscious man's head for a wound. Just in case he had caused any severe damage. The guilt started to fade away when he found no injuries.

The blond pulled himself up, stumbling a bit at first as he looked around. Gilbert was out of sight – but at least, thankfully, no one had seen _that_ scene. It would be tough explaining the situation. And if this guy was the store owner – things would have even been worse if he hadn't passed out. How would he explain being at his shop, while it was closed, locked?

Hesitantly, Matthew began to move away from the unconscious body. Best to leave now, find Gilbert, give him the bottle and get back to the ship. Aside from the time he had spent not on task – not helping Alfred with Arthur and planning things out for the task – he was growing somewhat restless. He didn't like it here – the unfamiliarity. He just wanted to get back to Alfred and the others.

It was always like this for him. He'd grow attached to things quickly, and once they'd grown familiar to him, he'd have trouble letting go. It was like this when he had first come to France – when he was adopted by Francis.

Francis was fond of him at the time – and Matthew knew that was still the case right now, but the Frenchman just didn't have time for him anymore. Nevertheless, Francis was as fond of him then as he was now, and despite that, Matthew could remember missing the orphanage in England, where he had grown up a bit in and where his friends were. Then, over time, his love along with many memories of the orphanage faded as they were replaced with his childhood in France, with Francis constantly growing on him, amongst others in the household. The same thing had happened with Roderich as well. Matthew was so attached to Francis when he was young, but as the Frenchman started growing busy, Roderich was put in charge of him. It took forever for them to grow close, but once it had happened, they never grew far.

 _Except now, maybe_ , Matthew realized guiltily. Had he replaced his feelings of familiarity from Roderich to Alfred? Had he already let go of his childhood – his actual family who had been there for him growing up – in place of his half-brother and mission?

 _It's not like that,_ Matthew tried to reassure himself as he continued down the path. People were growing more and more frequent. Some were even going in the direction he had come from.

Suddenly, a scream sounded from the area he had just left. Matthew winced. He was certain someone had found the unconscious man he had left a few minutes ago. He quickened his pace.

"Oi," an obnoxious voice sounded from behind him. "Kid, wait up!"

And there appeared Gilbert, standing in front of him with a grinning face while people began to rush to the cause of the scream. Matthew didn't want to be here much longer. He shoved the bottle into Gilbert's hands. "Here."

"You got it," red eyes sparkled. "Thanks, kid! We're even now."

At this point, Matthew didn't care. He was starting to understand why no one wanted him involved in anything related to Gilbert during his upbringing.

"Yeah, you're welcome," Matthew rushed out. "Okay. Nice doing business with you. Goodbye."

And with that, he spun away from the albino and began to run down vaguely familiar streets, ignoring Gilbert's yelling behind him.

 _Alfred, Alfred, Alfred – where are you?_

He ran up and down the streets, hoping to catch his half-brother or a crewmember. He had no such luck – and in the end, decided on returning back to the dock where he hoped they'd already assembled, waiting for him.

Violet eyes caught sight of a large ship standing at a distance, people crowding it on the dock. It was extremely busy, perhaps they were preparing to leave.

Matthew instantly felt better. He had finally found the ship, and they would leave very soon now.

He ran towards his at fast as he could, eager to leave the place as soon as possible, but he gradually began to slow down when he got a better look at the ship.

Right there, before him, stood _The Kirkland._

* * *

 ** _Fin._**

 **Well, at least this chappie, for now.**

 **Just apologizing since this is a little short! I had so much planned for this, but something came up, and I'd take a lot longer to post if I were to write out more, which is why, I'll do my best to have another chapter up by Friday, hopefully!**

 **Also - thank you, so, so, so much for the support everyone.** **Your support motivates me to continue, and it makes my day too! Thank you!**

 **More is coming** **VERY soon!**

 **Please feel free to leave behind your thoughts - they make my day!**


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